On The Road To You: War And Kompromise
by BleedingHeartsoftheWorldUnite
Summary: What do an outlaw, a future Kahn, a sorcerer, and the bitterest of enemies have in common? Other than the obvious, the answer never changes. Despite knowing that it could mean death, it was clear in the end that the entire truth had to be told. Shao Kahn's inconsequential war seemed a good place to begin...
1. Prologue: From Foxes To Thunder Gods

**\- Prologue: From Foxes To Thunder Gods -**

Deepest mauve and bleeding the entire spectrum of crimson, the mote-filled eve of dusk fell on the proud shoulders of the Himalayas and serenely painted the snow and sky alike with brushes of rose and indigo interwoven with pure jet. Pine and alder locked in endless kombat for dominance, the freshly crushed crystalline powder that coated the sapped jade foliage took on more of a teal color in the encroaching night, while the rocks shifted in their damask hues. Transformed by pitiless gray-violet shadows into shapeless protrusions that not only jutted out but gave in secretly, the land itself was on the defensive as it blotted out the scenery and set countless death-traps for even the most weary of travelers. Hanzo Hasashi had traveled to hell and back so the mountains held little terror for him, but alas, his apprentice was not nearly as fortunate in traversing no-man's land.

Entombed within the very heart of the mighty mountains themselves, there was no denying that the frigid seclusion was the perfect backdrop to house the new iteration of Shirai Ryu; the Grandmaster had chosen the location well as to deter unwanted visitors, but even he himself was only so familiar with the surrounding hinterland. Before the bloodshed had begun anew, the retreat had been a peaceful environment, safe and soundly secure. Creating a state of being akin to living bliss, the tranquility had even been profound enough to fool the scarred shinobi into believing that the pain of the past was just that, although on the best of days it could have almost been thought of as a bad dream from another life. Naturally that had been the ideal time for the unthinkable to happen: one of their own had been corrupted and slaughtered all but a single peer and the Grandmaster himself. Driven from their home and new family and into the caring-yet-cruel arms of Mother Nature, the last two survivors had every intention to head for the Sky Temple to make the God of Thunder answer for what had transpired.

Eyes like rained on slate roving innately to a relatively flat stretch of milky wine that would offer moderate shelter for the night - the reprieve of silent single-file footfalls only occurring due to Hanzo permitting his ward a moment to collect his bearings - even the boy's training and warm furs weren't enough to quell the shiver coloring his tone as he paused to speak, "Shouldn't we stop to make camp?"

Prior to that damned dagger causing all this trouble the boy had yet to demonstrate a true warrior's sense, but when Fox attacked them... Takeda encapsulated the traits all Shirai Ryu ought to live by, as well as proved that he was worthy of the Takahashi name - whether he willed it or not. Uniquely placed in the position of being vilified by the pupil while the master was greatly indebted, the blind telekinetic swordsman would have been proud of his son. And yet there was no denying that being puffed up by a good two inches of fur and down caused the youth to look for all the world like a furry marshmallow of fury. "Traveling under conditions like these is enough to kill if we don't keep our wits about us." Soothing on the psyche as it was to have his master and final life-line in his presence, there was only so much reserve strength the boy could tap into after witnessing the massacre of the entire clan.

Nightfall was always a dangerous time, more oft than not full of demons and horror, but under the threat of pursuit in an unfamiliar territory it was not difficult to guess that the cold seeping though the child's bones had only so much to do with the elements. Situation not an entirely unfamiliar one, in all truthfulness Hanzo felt the caress of unease at every shifting shadow and rustle of wind - not that his own training would ever permit it to reflect upon the stone-cold surface - however his concerns had little and less to do with Forrest Fox and quite possibly everything to do with his own past. Kinder than he deserved after every vile act he had been compelled to commit it, would have been simpler to claim that it was more of Scorpion's past than his own - cleaner even - yet the truth of the matter was that he was just as responsible as the wraith for his actions.

Lost and insignificant amongst the rampaging gusts that were the echoes of angry gods and wounded souls, the jealously guarded alias that subsequently fell from the shinobi's tongue would have sounded like a curse if the former wraith hadn't uttered it in a less than a whisper. Supposing for an impossible moment that the world had died to a frozen hush, Takeda never would have heard of the myrmidon; if the infamously yellow ninja was correct and the new tag was indeed who he thought it was, there was no way in any of the realms that the natural born hellion mistook the groan. To say that things had ended amiably between them would have been a severely poor, sick, sick joke - if the Shirai Ryu was just as tainted by the shameful mantle of guilt as his other darker self, it meant that the fellow servant of Quan Chi was just as complicit as he was. The Elder Gods alone knew how much that damned devil had to atone for, assuming for even an instant that the succubus was even capable of feeling remorse.

Either way the man looked at the ongoing circumstance, the faint crunch of frigid crystalline powder was too loud to belong to local wildlife that had long since adapted to methods of silence and stealth, the botched yet carefully timed spacing of footfalls suspiciously mirroring his own steps. Snow only able to do so much to muffle, another dead giveaway to the fact that they were being followed was the odd ungraceful slip-up and snapping twig hounding their progress. A novice perhaps, or an agent with wells of patience and a twisted agenda that served no one to dwell on. Conspicuous and emphatic as the signs were, whoever or whatever was tailing the pair of Earthrealm ninja was being cautious enough to keep some distance between them; Hanzo could have been mistaken, but it seemed to him that the dog barking at his heels wanted to make contact but was unsure of the best way to approach.

Granted the abundance of wild juniper dotting the mountain range revived a number of memories - not all of which were unpleasant - and that ungrateful monster's influence was stamped across recent thought, his mind immediately sprung to the pale hellion, though after their last encounter the traitor would be less than keen to face him.

Unless the absconder's situation had become _that_ dire...

Observing the facts objectively, the former specter of vengeance did not need to be educated in the deadly arts to acknowledge the vast majority would have either masked their presence or attacked by now, again barring the outcome of a murdering psychopath with the tendency to earn their victim's trust before skinning the sap alive and cannibalizing the remains. Still though, even in spite of the lack of malicious intent whatever beast was tracking them reeked with the scent of blood, which any kombatant worth their salt didn't need to be informed boded ill...

Direct from the mouth of a babe, just as the old proverb went: perhaps young Takeda was right and this would be a prudent time to rest - appearing to be otherwise occupied and therefore vulnerable might even draw their stalker out into the open, though naturally this would be a dicey gamble. Relenting to wisdom the shinobi lowered his neck and agreed, "Very well Takeda." Victory short-lived from the uncertain look to ghost across his countenance, the poor kid was clearly frightened enough without adding to the fire, and besides, if the shadows were masking a malevolent presence then this would be the exact opportunity they were waiting for to turn the tide. "You prepare shelter while I scout out the area to make sure we're not being followed." A cheerful thought for a wonderful wasteland such as this, but it was undeniable that if they were going to get caught by the demon that possessed Fox, they'd already be dead by now.

Departing for the densest part of the bush with nary a ceremony, Hanzo left the boy with what he would need to make a small camp and defend himself, eyes, ears, and nose perked for the slightest noise or suspicious bump in the night as he melted into the darkness. The last thing the boy heard before he was completely on his own a final piece of advice, "Takeda, keep your guard up."

 **Many Years Ago...**

Naked for all the world to see, the demon fire inside stripped bare to the ragged remnants of flesh and soul, the defeated last member of the Shirai Ryu hung limp in his shackles as he burned in the innermost pits of the Neatherrealm, utterly alone and all but eviscerated by misery and loss. _They were gone._ Married to the pain and devolved to a state so basic as to believe in unrefined mortal concepts of anguish, in his mind the punishment for his failure was to helplessly watch the fire as it engulfed everything he knew; everything, save for the frozen remains of his wife and child. _My family. My clansmen and everyone I have ever known. My whole life._ Casing more resilient to the heat than anything he had known of in the previous world, that ice might have been made of some unnatural diamond that sparkled maliciously and shone with a grim beauty.

Lashed, gashed, burned, engulfed, and given screws through the thumb, all Hanzo could do was dwell on the pain inside as it ate at him night and day on an endless loop that sneered at the personage of time, the respites of false hope spent with the unending echo of the same questions. _How did it happen? How could I have lost the most important thing in my life? Why did they have to die? What had he done that earned such a wrathful fate for his family and clan?_ Plagued to the point of near madness by the overwhelming failure of his weakest hour, the man didn't immediately stir at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Buckled up the side with winged spikes and sterling studs - the polished hide gleamed brightly in the eerie silver-scarlet cast by the cobwebbed candelabrum floating in the hand of an indentured inferior - the boots of the sorcerer pounded the dirt path with a purpose. "Hanzo Hasashi. You are here to suffer," oil in its purest form, the warlock hid a cruel smirk behind feigned confusion as he spoke, "yet my torturers report that fire does not burn you. Why?" Without equal in the grand game, the downright diabolical Quan Chi was undoubtedly the single most gifted liar that the ruined shred of a husk had ever had the ill fortune to encounter in this or any life, hindsight playing the full concert beyond peak performance when it was pointed out that the summoner was likely never alerted by anyone and was probably just counting the seconds until this moment.

"My-" After what felt like an empty eternity locked in the abyss, speaking came with a difficulty that the former ninja had never known before, every attempt at breath searing the lining of his throat like lava as it came out of lips so cracked blood dribbled with each syllable. "-My family..."

Onyx and bordering on a satisfied snarl, the warlock's lips quirked up in premature victory. "Ah, yes. Love. How tragic that the Lin Kuei should be allowed the opportunity to continue on without the fear of retribution."

The Lin Kuei? Of course...! Despite history recalling half-forgotten legend claiming that the Shirai Ryu and Lin Kuei shared a common root, the two battling factions had been at war for several bitter generations, clans clashing violently and without any trace of an end in sight. Provided the scum weren't too cowardly to do the deed themselves, it seemed only natural the blue bastards would be responsible for orchestrating such an assault. Grasping the reality of his own demise, in life Hanzo might have possibly come to allow that the Lin Kuei could have turned out the rare exception with a grain of honor, however in this instance of infinite hate the entire clan and each ancestor had stained their own hands. Skills required to pull off this sickening extermination not an applicable trait worth considering, nor was lack thereof, when the shinobi closed his eyes he could clearly make out the unbreakable ice coffins glowing red-orange in the vermilion flames as if he were there once more...

Clear-headed Hanzo might have better remembered the lesson all the children of the clan learned, that no good could come of magicians or their ilk, and yet the inferno had no need of what seemed scarcely better than old wives tales; living or dead, so long as it would aid in his vengeance the source was moot. _Don't do this!_ Unfamiliar, a disembodied voice called out to the man inside the blaze, but whoever the messenger was, they were too weak to have much of an impact. And why should he listen anyways? If this conjurer did somehow posses the power to grant him his justice, to afford the Shirai Ryu the chance to embrace his family once more - even if it was only for a moment - he did not credit himself to be strong enough to turn down the necromancer's offer. Transpiring in the cruelest of ways the worst had already happened, so what else was there left to lose?

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Hello all ^^

First things first, yes, this is a strongly OC fic, and also yes, this is like the bajillionth time I've made a crack at an MK story (hello reboots). While this is going to be SUPER SUPER similar to the timeline/events of "Wreaking Ball", I'm not entirely sure about whether or not they'll be connected or not, so there may be some discrepancies... For any unfamiliar with "Wreaking Ball", no sweat ^^ Speaking of sweat, this is gonna get steamy (and kinda fucked-up) at the end, so be prepared! Not really sure what more to add other than the usual disclaimers (I own nothing but what I create, including but not limited to this story and a certain succubus), any discrimination/hate/abuse/whichever is purely how I personally perceive the character, hope you all enjoy, and I'd love any feed back :D

P.S.

I'm posting this entire story in one helping so that there's no "PLZ FINISH THIS" due to my finicky cycles of interest.


	2. Worth In War

**\- Chapter One: Worth In War -**

War never changed, konquest was a hell march lacking defined destination, and battle was the sonnet of poets wielding stained blades.

Shao Kahn's armies were scattered throughout: the battered brunt of the infantry often found themselves dealing with those foolhardy foes that mistook themselves as prepared, while specialized sorties struggled savagely against the guerrilla forces of a realm once thought to be underdeveloped and not worth half the focus of an Earthrealm invasion. As the two officers most interested in one upping the other, Kintaro's camp were primarily focused on finding a way to outshine the latest decorated success of Motaro's men; the Tarkatan were savaging the undefended villages and pillaging them at their leisure; fresh from the countryside, General Reiko was scheming to shape a secret squad intended to eliminate the supposed hideout of the enemies' most capable commander. Under express orders of the Emperor of course. By all calculations the deadlocked tide should turn in the favor of the conquerers from Outworld with a handful of prominent victories, so it stood to reason that once Reiko's select squadron were informed of the change of situation and deployed, a number of soldiers might be allowed to return home from the squalid little realm.

And in the interim between battalion building and occupation...

Seeping like starving leeches into the woolly azure curls of the portable vanilla-scented carpet, the unvarnished canopy walls cried vivid cranberry wax as the remainder of the mutilated stumps melted in their dark iron brackets, snuffing the fading yellow flames one by one. Crude as the set was, the argent crescent highlights ponderously created by the waxing moon above - as well as the twinkling stars that occasionally peeked from behind congealed curtains of ashen nebula - would be the only source of illumination left once the final beacon had been extinguished. Parts of the war tent badly singed upon closer inspection, another accidental blaze was the last thing the tangle of limbs required... burning flames more than a passing familiarity, on this night _any_ mishap spelled grave consequences.

Elder Gods preoccupied with cosmic beings greater than the living specks of dust carrying on in the lieutenant's lightweight mobile, private pavilion pitched a fair way away from the rest of the men, the sensually damp scent of summer rain was unwieldy as the natural stratosphere drifting wantonly through the unfastened slit of open canvas. Intoxicating as the aroma was, the two bodies locked in a tango that knew neither vertical nor horizontal had stopped smelling it hours ago. Each too drunk on the other to heed anything less than life-threateningly pressing outside their immediate sphere, all the lovers knew in their universe was the faint lingering halo of natural herbs overpowered by heady musk and steady beads of sweat, the only non-organic ingredient the cheap detergents that ongoing conflict forced all commandos to use on the lackluster linens. Opulence was a concept that existed solely for the nobles and the naive dreamers - for better or worse Ko'atal and Zyanya were soldiers, and as such that meant that their romance came from their own pockets as much as from their own hearts.

Wolfish and requiring only this infinite hour, overworked vessels succumbed to sweet repose upon the knotted mass of crimson sleeping furs that might have once been genuine TaiGore or some unfortunate beast that an innkeeper's wife scrapped off the side of the alley and made into covers. Cold habit defeating weak-kneed satisfaction betrayed by a starry-eyed ear-to-ear grin, a palm of strawberry encrusted milk silently swatted away a beachy fellow bleached almost colorless in the dying embers; by Outworld law Ko'atal had won the right to claim the female for his own, however a mistreated heart was not so easily earned. Up to the challenge, the young Osh-Tekk persisted in placing one sizable turquoise paw over her smaller ivory fist, four fingers finding their own unique ways to clasp through reluctant resistance. Body all but enslaved to desire and mind nearly as engaged in even the most mundane conversational points, wounded heart possessing the willingness to give an honest chance, the warrior noted that the time it took her to relent to the pure gesture was a hair less than it had been the day before.

"Ko'atal," demon paramour coated in a fresh sheen of sweat (and other bodily issues) and still ravenous after a comfortable shared silence, the paler of the two swains was propped upon her knees with tattooed arms enveloping her lover's muscular chest once his breathing evened out to a lull just shy of slumber, hands roaming freely as they worked to inspire yet another romp with the teal tiger, "we aren't done here." Patting the top of his inner thigh seductively, the female paratrooper did not miss that her CO had turned his attentions to the sprawling network of glittering lanterns sparkling like blood and amber amidst the jade hills below, a fraction of his mind still dwelling on the consequences the conquered civilians faced both during and after occupation. "The city will continue to be here," hoping he got her point, she began to trail a pattern of chaste butterflies down his neck, pressing harder into his shoulders with starving lips as lower organs began to respond to the positive attention, "but thanks to the General we may not get to enjoy this arrangement much longer."

Gifted privacy, a modest chunk consisting of odd donations for all of the blood shed (a debatable portion being senseless), plus some nifty conjurer's tricks, the lovers didn't have to try very hard to forget that this generous respite was largely the sum of months and months of combined effort. Swearing by a strict code of honor and gore the Osh-Tekk frequently frowned upon the demoness' less than savory abilities, however it was indisputable that due to the unpredictable nature of conflict there was a very real probability that her tour would be done with and they might be parted for unexpected centuries. Time was an odd being and war was no man's friend. Never mind the fact that although the kombatants were accustomed to far worse conditions on the field, they were both pleasantly shocked to find that the deep crimson furs were soft to the touch and warm as a beating heart.

A creature of base instinct like any other, Ko'atal was not fully immune to the ensnaring sway of the otherworldly enchantress, however he was not so weak as to place his musings on indefinite hold as the body surrendered to the tense build-up of pleasure gnawing ravenously at his core, scratching madly for release, "The city will stand so long as the army requires a strategic seat in the valley." Raised by a great king and further tempered in a political landscape, despite the deep trust and unconditional love he had for his present company, the god-prince knew to pick and choose his words with care, "It is not for us to question the will of the Emperor, but I have no qualms saying I fear the General has many plots, some of which I hope will never see the light of day. Thanks to the invasion this is a land of widows and mothers whose sons and daughters have already been consumed by the necessities of war."

"You really are worried about these people." Far from shocked to find compassion in the Osh-Tekk's heart, the woman of ghostly pearl grew serious as the mood her companion was setting as she contemplated what could be done about their plight, "We can't save everyone, that just isn't the way... but..." A thought came at the nibble of her thumbnail, but even to voice it in the confines of the lieutenant's sparsely furnished yurt would be dangerous, "If they could be convinced to leave their homes and the dead they'll never see again, perhaps Outworld can make room to substitute their own losses." Abandoning (if only for the moment) her petting, the volunteer viceroy joined her partner in pondering the best route to approaching the occupied denizens and abscond with an unknown quantity of bodies, "Orders can come at any time, so we might not have enough time to make formal arrangements."

Obviously this was not a fact that had slipped the sun warrior's mind, nor the precarious position this put the emigrating demoness in, "Unless there was a problem and one of the soldiers started an uproar." Under stressful circumstances, limited rations, and laxly guarded spoils the greedy weren't able to touch, it was not unheard of for even the most polished of battalions to break into bedlam; and if the ensuing chaos just happened to lend to the perfect cover for the citizens' mass departure, so be it.

Honest to a point about her origins, the succubus of the Netherrealm scanned the handsomely sculpted planes of the gallant giant's back with eyes that longed to just break the barriers and nuzzle the vulnerable space for the sake of comfort, chest throbbing at the mere thought of repeatedly failing to confess the entire truth to Ko'atal. Acid and a razor blade kiss, on one hand it sizzled and burned the back of the throat to continue to neglect to explain why she would be so motived to squander what goodwill and trust she had earned in Outworld to assist in what could very well be considered treason, but the pain was more than that... it literally caused an ache to keep the secret. A deep gut-wencher at the best of times, and yet the words would never come! Discovery becoming a distant dream, fleeing further and further with each jilted heartbeat, the way Reiko had explained it to her she and Ko'atal would be commanded to strike out further east and meet with a handful of other individuals before anything could be said to the poor wretches. Assuming that the timetable was correct - and it would be unlike Reiko to allow a window for error larger than a strand of hair - the plot the couple had brewing was not like to even see the first tea leaf, which did not break the impling's heart: knowing what she did of slavery the hellion truly did want to help these people, but there were more important things to protect.

Knotted mop of intricately woven bleached gold falling over pools of melted nirvana as his recently bandaged hand lightly pressed the top of her head in approval, the muscle of the fearsome duo was reminded in a single glance why of all the worthy candidates he had selected the morose outsider to be his companion in the first place, "Beware Zyanya, your heart shows." In this most intimate of exchanges, the kombatant knew deep down that he was in danger of falling for the female all over again - if it wasn't too late already.

High ranking operatives often granted boon, it was not uncommon to find the witch passing around her portion of fresh foods to the children too young to be sent away to the battlefield, and though she did not tarry in their company, the demoness broke from her patrol route to calm the frightened womenfolk when needed. Possibly going for sainthood, it went without saying that Zyanya would gladly spend the hours not in the company of her peers easing the elderly, enacting mercy or listening to tall tales repeatedly, taking each retold folklore for a polite nod or gathering both wisdom and skills in chess simultaneously. Their whole unit saw it, but as she was merely an outsider sent to Outworld to garner favor for the Netherrealm to get a foot in the palace door, none of the grunts cared a lick.

Shying away from his touch as if he had said the wrong thing with anger and a raised fist, the imp shifted uncomfortably and muttered darkly, "Is that so?" Despite possessing strength in spades and being blessed with some semblance of insight, he remained blind to the dark places she hid, blissfully ignorant to the raging struggle inside that never ceased to scream in her ears that no matter how much every fiber yearned to give in, a cruel echo refusing to let her forget that no matter how many trials they endured it would never be enough to yield completely. "Ko'atal..." Still the words could not come, even though more than almost anything else she longed to come clean. Hell, to even be able to say something to stop from leading him on would have been great, but try as she might, the demoness just could not find the strength.

Brushing the rest of her words away with his index so comforting and radiant upon her lips, the warrior pulled the femme fatal into his arms, mind made up after months of careful counseled consideration. "Someday," tenderly tracing the toned panes of Zyanya's scarred abdomen with a surprising amount of gentleness for such a gigantic hand, the strapping stallion murmured into the ear of his compact counterpart as they fell back into the featherbed with a charted course of the heavens above, "when I am someone in the ranks of Shao Kahn's army, I will make it so that you are safe and protected, never in want of anything." Money and status had never been important to the creature of hell, but it was a part of the package deal, "Even now I could make it so that you would never have to lift another finger, your every whim answered by as many servants as we can afford with your bridegift and my estate. We may never live as well as the Kahn, but you could be comfortable." Practiced a million different times over a hundred days in his head, the speech he had prepared came out as more of a business transaction than a marriage proposal, however between the Osh-Tekk and the succubus romance wasn't the glittering fairytale as depicted in Earthrealm, "Don't think me unreasonable - when the spirit of adventure moves you, you shall join me by my side."

Somehow, if the conversation could go from a conspiracy to commit treason to the promise of forever, something had gone _very_ wrong...


	3. Pending The Advice Of Hens And Heathens

**\- Chapter Two: Pending The Advice Of Hens And Heathens -**

Heels clacking with enough volume to stir the dark creatures slumbering in the flesh pits - more than half a lifetime's worth of training in the deadly arts apparently no match for muting the racket furious sterling silver made on old stone - the princess was in such a mood that it mattered not that her presence was announced ahead of the blue blur that was her throwing fan. Any fool brazen enough to launch such a sloppy attempt at the Kahn's life would have rightfully been executed on the spot, however all present knew that if the royal daughter had had true designs on her father's life the assault would not have been so direct, nor would the death stroke have hit so far from its mark. Had a strict sense of etiquette not been instilled in the young Edenian, the blue-clad brunette would have stormed in like a spoiled child with no regard for courtesy; mannered yet tempered by the infernal rage of hormones and evolving inner flows, there was not enough courtesy in the world to hold back the hurricane! Judgmental Tuscan terracotta eyes narrowing venomously in the direction of the masked servant that had abandoned his post at the foot of the throne to retrieve her favorite weapon as it quivered in the gold tone masonry, Kitana approached the hulking figure seated before the court without preamble or pomp.

"Tanya?!" Enraged beyond mere words to that point that it was too strenuous a trial to look away from the man that dared to call himself her father, the breathtaking assassin could still feel the burning heat of the assembly's collective gaze shifting between the accuser and her fellow Edenian, anticipation palpable at how the Emperor would handle this rare outburst. "Tanya!? Tell me that Rain spoke untruly, I implore you to prove that self-absorbed braggart wrong!" Nothing. Not even a peep escaped from the tyrant's thin cracked lips. "..." As the humiliating silence that followed her irate request expanded in on itself, Kitana snapped and mewled, "Oh! You send a silver-tongued diplomat to engage the enemy over one of your most prized warriors?! How DARE you tell me I'm not ready in such an undignified manner! The Queen would never have stood for such a slight!"

Immobile as the silent guardians of the grave during the teenage tirade, Shao Kahn's first real flicker of life came at the mention of his departed bride - the involuntary motion a single twitch of the jaw invisible to most - a dangerous leer crossing his otherwise impassive countenance, "Daughter, I did not realize that you sat in on my war council. Pray tell, since you are so well informed, who should I send if not the child of Edenia's most qualified ambassadors? The princess and heir of the throne? What remains of her custodian once Shang Tsung has finished?" At the threat to her dearest confident, Kitana gazed over her handsomely adorned shoulder with wide eyes. "Perhaps a self-absorbed braggart would be better still - at the very least he might know to hold his tongue before his superiors!"

Half a step behind her charge and closest companion, Jade firmly clasped the toned tussler by the upper arm and subtly yanked her back from the dead center of the floor, uttering through an emerald face mask a plea far too late to matter, "Please, Kitana, don't make things worse!" Elder Gods bless her, Jade only ever had the wellbeing of the Queen's daughter at heart.

Obscured by the cerulean shadows flickering between the blown-glass lanterns that decorated the main hall and further hidden behind an old drunkard that wobbled from an over indulgence in rice wine, Tanya was watching from the fringes of the crowd as she twirled a glowing halo of flame around a tawny finger for the fun of it, biding her time to strike. Sensing correctly that a better opportunity would not present itself on that day, the lanky youth stood forward so that her long ebony locks shone with a vermilion tint, "If it pleases the Emperor, I offer a solution to ease Princess Kitana of her frustrations: request one of the mid-ranking captains to show the princess the ropes. Consider it if you will - the weary troops will be emboldened by such a confident act, and the attention-starved child shall have the opportunity to prove herself that she so desperately needs." As the emperor contemplated the proposal without the whispering of his council in his ear, Tanya smirked condescendingly in the royal daughter's direction, lips mouthing a single phrase 'you're welcome'.

Embarrassment knowing no end, Kitana loathed Tanya with every fiber of her being in that instant, Jade despising the yellow-clad girl twice as much for her own reasons. "General Reiko's spies inform me that Special Lieutenant Lunga has a preference for a certain kind of woman," whatever that meant, the ghost of a smirk nearly threatened to cross the monarch's mouth as he declared his intentions, "so it was deemed appropriate by my council of hens and heathens to send Tanya and Prince Rain to rendezvous with a second team to infiltrate and kill the low-born bastard. Reiko will provide further detail upon arrival." Located opposite Tanya but still within her line of sight, the purple pauper prince nodded at the female in full view of the room and all its inhabitants, earning what sounded suspiciously like a hiss from the prime and proper princess; Shao Kahn did not fail to notice. "You have an excellent head for strategy Tanya - I shall approve your request, and keep a close eye on your future prospects."

Beaming like the cat that ate the canary, the burgeoning political bloom thanked her most generous lord for the opportunity and the compliment, "Thank you, Emperor." Ahh, the sweet glow of victory!

 **Later...**

Stealth of the essence as the lone figure crept through the negligently lit corridors, the forgotten vestibule ignored by the servants and therefore lit solely by the whim of nature, an obsidian-haired youth garbed in magnificent threads of plum and violet trimmed in the finest of gold tip-toed past a crumbling mosaic of the Edenian royal palace that led to the untouched private chambers of Queen Sindel. Justly concluded under the circumstances, one might have come to understand that after the beauty fair's passing the grand suit would be stripped barren, scrubbed clean of the few fleeting memories the royal couple shared, and rebuilt into yet another shrine to the Kahn's boundless ego, yet happy coincidence led to the discovery that the magnificent rooms were left unsealed and easily accessible. Polite society would have assumed the only lock and key required would be respect for the dead, but it seemed that Shao Kahn had his own designs for allowing the eternal amethyst heart to remain unguarded; Princess Kitana was known for the deeply unconditional love she felt for her mother, and as a grieving child it only stood to reason that she would do what she could to remain close.

Feeble wisps of natural alabaster moonlight swallowed by ravenous sea-born clouds slow dancing in shifting shadows across the sapphire and ruby set walkway, the innocuous squeak of an unseen mouse woke the demigod from his reverie. Dark eyes skimming the luxurious flat of his upbringing and remembering less than he had even a year prior, Rain frowned at the haunted castle of starlight and eternal beauty: scarcely more than a child, as the demigod was now it would still take countless more centuries to reclaim utopia, however once the shared Edenian vision had been achieved his tireless and heroic efforts would be applauded and he would be sitting on the throne, a king!

That was where Tanya fit in - unafraid to crawl on hands and knees in the toil of sweat and blood and even less scared of knowing how to have fun while down in the dirt, the high-born survivor had no shortage of ambition and the necessary drive to act that the princess so sorely lacked, although at the end of the road that could have proven to be a problem... On the other hand, being of noble birth and the child of a favored and generous queen Kitana would have been a boon to his efforts, but the blasted girl had no apparent motivation to do what had to be done to restore their realm, nor did her handmaiden, so ultimately they would only be obstacles. Neither woman meant more to the schemer than a tool for use and another warm body for a cold night that might otherwise be spent alone, Jade counting for naught, but if it had to come down to the image of forever that the commoners would likely demand he yield to, at least the pyromancer would surrender to his touch.

Pondering the selection of a potential queen with greater consideration, Rain began to question what traits his ideal bride-to-be would require...


	4. Lotus And Light

**\- Chapter Three: Lotus and Light -**

Kree'Ketts impregnating the chilled breath of midnight with chirped gossip, private campsite of the decorated lieutenant and his bitch alight with the final ruddy ghosts of ashen embers that floated south from the maple-liked creek, crystal clouds pendulous and swollen as they coasted over a starless span of midnight velvet, there was suddenly more life to be found outside in nature. Hunted yet hopeful, the strange bushy-faced chinchilla-like creatures that fed primarily on the unwanted remains of spoiled foods were scavenging through the low shrubbery winding up to the epicenter of the clay village, bundles of sought-after fur blindly bumping into one another and the predators that were intelligent enough to lay low. Pitiful as it was heartbreaking, a nursing mother cried out for the liter that had been scattered in the daily ruckus. Mimicking the voices of regional songbirds with eerie precision, a crawling sprawl of harmless-looking gold ivy slithered leafless tendrils stained crimson around the throats of unsuspecting prey; caterpillars and bullet ants devoured the decrepit stalks too frail to fend for themselves, the wails sounding all too human.

Silence following the straightforward proposal a Macuahuitl through the breast, each ticking second of wordless agony a deeper cut, the unguarded heart of Ko'atal tightened in his chest at the lack of overt acceptance; failing to fathom what force in the realms could possibly be preventing Zyanya from falling over herself at the unprecedented opportunity to become his bride, he could only return her blank stare. Registered separately or in tandem, birth and hard work had both earned the adult beings the right to claim high rank - Kotal K'etz had been the ruler of Osh-Tekk, yet that had not kept him from encouraging his son to be all he could be, and though she had deigned to address matters of her home life, only an individual with pull could stand as an ambassador with the ear of the Kahn. Traditional marriage laws dictating that there were no issues with multiple monogamist unions trailing in the past, considering their respective ages in his mind it was an oddity that neither had had a prior engagement, at least to the extent of his knowledge.

Feeling the pulse-rinding stab of realization setting in, not for the first time it occurred to the warrior sun that much and more of his chosen companion's past was legitimized a hairsbreadth less than speculated enigma and half-truths woven for the political landscape. Standoffish to the point of bearing unflattering rumors the Netherrealm had primarily kept to itself, yet that was no guarantee that the Elder Gods had designed the denizens for the truth - Zyanya had kindly remarked to her paramour that that wasn't even her given name, however Ko'atal suddenly had to doubt if even that was honest. Observing the behavior of the succubus with the keenest of eyes, and admittedly handling the creature's feelings most gingerly, he thought he had discovered two of her tells: fibbing, the demoness would either touch her wrist or run her tongue across the back of her teeth, and when giving in to vulnerability, Zya would be prone to brushing her hair back, tapping her elbow, or for the bigger things, looking anywhere but. Confessing that Zyanya was just a code name taken from what her mother would have named her only daughter (if an aunt of sorts was to believed), the pearl-woman had suddenly taken a great interest in the reeds protruding from the dingy swamp water that mercilessly swallowed more than half of the division, her fingers skimming the boiling surface as they wadded. Asked by the General himself to join his lieutenants for a celebratory dinner, her acceptance was pure wrist; Reiko had sought the female's presence before, however after returning from leading her own sortie through an enemy garrison and coming back alone with a vague story, it was whispered amongst the men that the warrior was to be discharged and sent back to the Emperor for punishment.

Clearly her fears had been for naught - if memory served correct, the celebrations the senior staff members were ordered to hold were partially to commemorate the dead, the grand feast beginning with the promotion of a handful of petty officers. Recalling the sweet sensation of relief washing over her trembling countenance as the orders where given to fetch the newest member of the general's council a seat, the Osh-Tekk could smell the lotus tickling his nose as she practically collapsed in the spot made by his side. No doubt she had gathered that that had been no accident, because after the soul had returned to her pale form, she had acted on her own volition and grasped his hand atop the table as the third cask of wine was passed around. Feeling the ghost of her hand in the present, Ko'atal was reminded vividly of the daring midnight swim they had taken in the high lord's private spa the night prior to her promotion, her own disregard for Reiko's express orders coming in the ugly reminder that there was nothing preventing the General from taking advantage of the one woman in the vicinity. Submerged in the watery lotus garden after a short swim through the depths that vanished into a man-made grotto, the succubus had stopped short of where the battle-blooded warrior basked in the full moonlight, hands clasping his knees when she had said, "My body may not entirely be my own, but my heart is another matter... or so I thought."

That was the exact moment he thought she had fallen in love with him.

If that had been the case though, would the statue of the woman he cared so deeply for still be immobile facing the prospect of their future together? Without sounding a winded braggart the Osh-Tekk was of the highest lineage and the purest warrior's blood flowed through his veins, creating a worthy protector and mate, so even as the silence crept onwards and reflections came on at all angles, he could not understand how she could be so terrified to accept. Was there another consort perhaps? No. Returned with a bruised collar and a new set of lacerations there was no hiding what the succubus shared with Reiko, but when a visiting messenger had caught her eye on his return from the palace with news, there had been nothing at all to compel the monster of lust to come clean about what happened while they were separated. Surely if the unwritten action of the battlefield could be confided without prompt or obligation, a relationship of meaning would have come up long before now; unless, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered, she was a better liar than given credit for.

Pondering the impossible in a way that skewered it into a picture that he could learn to accept, assuming there had been someone else hiding beyond the edge of the frame, it might not have been in the way that he was originally thinking - undeniable at best, it was a fact that Kotal K'etz did not trust the wayward demon, nor had he made any sort of secret of his dislike. Could it have been his father preventing the female from the natural course of action?

War dying to a gentle lull for a whole season, the first time Zyanya met K'etz she had delved to a bundle of flesh and nerves prone to pessimistic pacing and frantic fidgeting while waiting for the escorted caravan to arrive at the settlement, each step or involuntary twitch accompanied by muttered reassurances and reminders of every tiny little scrap of information worth citing. Upon being educated of the visit, the hellion's first inclination had been to steer clear of the king so that his son's image was in no way tainted, however at Ko'atal's insistence that the two most important people in his life become acquainted, she had done everything she could possibly think of to brush up on Osh-Tekk culture. Resources hampered by the ongoing conflict, easy as they currently had it, no amount of eye-rolls or groans had prevented the demon asking the most mundane questions pertaining to both the people and the king between scanning through incomplete passages found in dusty antiqued scrolls.

Zyanya had done well to impress Kotal K'etz from the very moment that the entourage had arrived at the campsite, which in hindsight had foolishly led the solar-powered prince to erroneously believe that everything would fall into place and all of the stress would have been for nothing. Alas that couldn't have been farther from the truth - the longer the day wore and the better it went, the less his father trusted her. Improvised just a hair, a traditional Osh-Tekk dinner had been prepared for the three of them with K'etz seated at the far end of the scrubbed wooden slab crafted into a table; chipped bowels of skinned morsels and grilled greens steaming in the center, the host of the gathering occupied the head of the table opposite the visitor of the homestead. By all rights the man guesting his father should have had to look to his right to see his prized hand, which meant the demoness, however in this case as the woman was neither Ko'atal's bride nor a precious business partner, she opted to respectfully leave the spot of deepest regard vacant. Had she only accepted the titles and meaning behind sitting at the Osh-Tekk's side over recognizing the formality of the situation, K'etz might have been less blunt when he flatly declared that the impling was too polished for his taste, each little by-law and ritual acknowledged oozing a practiced pretender. "A worthy mate would be too frightened in her heart to perform to par", he had said.

And suddenly a light went off in his head.


	5. Headdress

**\- Chapter Four: Headdress -**

'Saved by Reiko' the most unlikely phase to ever be uttered, that was precisely what had happened following agonizingly awkward moments stretched into gradually less comfortable eons, the odd pattern of his heartbeat broken only by the feeble whimper of flame threatening to curl in on itself and die on the cheaply crafted wick. Fueled by self-preservation and the innate fear of loneliness, whatever deep realizations or scrambled deals had been struck in the encroaching shades of darkness threatening to overtake the lieutenant's canvas war tent had been placed on ice as it were, the General abandoning the trite concern of what familiar flash of flesh could be seen in the fleeting flames and simply barreled in with the summons. Serpentine beasts striking with less deadly precision and speed, the muscular intruder moved swiftly as to not broker argument and with some small measure of stealth to observe any possible trace of a crumb that could be used for later extortion; truly the only surprising part was that Reiko himself was acting the messenger, although granted even that was only mildly out of place.

"It is time." Words spoken curtly by the tongue of a man that had endeavored with blood and sweat to make his ambitions a reality, the due relief etched into each syllable was only pronounced further by the flaring of nostrils that no shortage of light could hinder, "Shao Kahn has issued the order for the succubus to seduce and eliminate, as per my request." Preamble as foreign a concept as personal space to the meat-head looking mother, the handsy bastard grabbed Zyanya by the forearm and bodily yanked her to her feet.

Negative degree air gusting suddenly through the carelessly unattended slit to gut what remained of the trembling candlelight, in the brief instant before the dying sherbet glow was snuffed the fangs of paranoia barred themselves, the demoness acutely weary of a certain set of pupil-less turquoise pebbles falling upon the faint traces of a mauve five-fingered reminder to obey the first time. Cursing her naturally fair complexion and the silvery-rose scars that multiplied in number each time their CO got bored, the hellion reached subconsciously to hide the evidence and gazed in the direction of the General, "Understood. I..." Flickering momentarily to Ko'atal before rotating back around to give Reiko the attention he so plainly sought, she could feel her eyes moisten ever-so-slightly at how things had been left unsaid between the two, "I'll be right in for debriefing." And there it was again, the unbearable crushing weight in the center of her heart that intensified two-fold each and every time she failed to communicate something to her lover, this time the festering wound sliced with a sacred dagger blessed in the cursed blood of Shinnook; gapping hole only growing with each inaction or white lie, under no circumstances was the impling prepared to let anyone see her cry. "I'll be there."

Observing the unbroken sigh hanging over the heads of the duo by an unraveling string - the mighty Osh-Tekk reaching pitifully out to the abomination despite the wintry sting of rejection permeating the air while the filthy heathen stained beyond even the cleansing of death retreated further and further into herself - Reiko noted that not all was joyous. Vindicated in that it had been grossly obnoxious for the troops to endure the impenetrable walls of the couple's united front, not to mention how degrading it was having to beg that bitch for sloppy seconds, the Outworlder took a second to truly enjoy the cracks that were revealing themselves before refusing, "No."

Whereas Ko'atal was baffled by the apparent lack of the two-legged vermin passing along the possibility that he would be escorting his little girlfriend through the wildlands and into the city of Si'Sil-on, Zyanya merely nodded; granting leave to gather their clothing and whatever other equipment was deemed necessary via a subtle wave of the hand, he proceeded to gloat with a smirk, "Shame. Had I known she could follow orders and keep secrets from her beloved paramour, I wouldn't have had to march with death glaring at my back this whole time." Poison laced into the lash and seeping deeper into the fissures, Reiko shrugged, "No matter. The pair of you are to rendezvous with the Edenians Rain and Tanya outside of Ti'ian and head to Si'Sil-on, where Special Lieutenant Lunga is rumored to be. From there, Rain will act as both a friend and a dealer of special goods and present Lunga with two exotic beauties," snorting, it was quite clear that the General personally favored neither the albino-esque demon nor the lovely tawny lioness, "a gift in the hopes of brooking an alliance with the remaining Edenains against an emperor that threatens their ways of life. With his talents, I'm sure that Rain of all people could concoct a worthy story." Reiko couldn't have been any more condescending if he tried. "Once inside the hideout, the women will do what is necessary to distract Lunga while Rain and Ko'atal do the real work."

Head declined in the lowest of shames and forlornly bent away from the true source of her woe, long face framed by a rippling curtain of glinting silver standing out at all ends, Zyanya removed her arm from Reiko's silently mirthful hold and began her own hunt through the goods scattered across the grassy floor. Recovering from the prickling reality of an unsavory hunch slowly but with a collected bearing, Ko'atal stood to his full height without shame or embarrassment and sought the last know location of his underclothes, secretly dreading the moment that someone found the wrong piece of attire. It was one thing to have to face their situation without the outside world there to interfere, but with so many factors mounting at a single time, the warrior sun found it was becoming increasingly difficult to cope with the turbulent tangle of emotions and less-than-pleasant revelations that accompanied them - K'etz had always told his son that women were creatures of string, and he was coming to see what his father meant.

Male and female alike standing only to occupy the opposite ends of the canvas tupik with nothing but a squared reminder of better times between, he made the first move to kneel underneath the predatory and cruel eye of the Outworlder, massive teal hands kneading blindly through the bluegrass blades until they came into contact with a slender strap of something with a metallic feel. Sensing immediately that this discovery was not of his own fit, the knot feeding itself on raw nerves relaxed before snapping back tighter than it was before the instant he heard an audible groan that slipped through an otherwise iron defense. Zyanya sat upright, more silhouette than solid in the night, hand tremulously grasping a headdress of flattened beads and clanking bone that was rough to the touch; determined to be professional in front of their uninvited guest at the least, she crawled over and exchanged the cowled helmet for the slinky armor.

Fingers brushing oh so gently in the trade, all bets were off: golden gaze dancing anywhere but at the broad-nosed Osh-Tekk whose short hair was too dark to discern the color of, the electric spark between them ignited something that all but demanded direct eye contact, which in turn led to the weakening of wills, causing not only a second glance but a lingering one at that. Pulling back the protective head piece, Zyanya shook her head as the cooper-colored metal touched her heart, "Let me help with this?"

Aware of what it meant to have any woman attend his needs in such a manner, Ko'atal nodded with the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, pleased that there was something in her heart that cared enough for him to see to his safety (or hated him enough to commit subterfuge), "It would honor me if you did." Perhaps this was far from her accepting his proposal, but coming from the demoness this simple gesture was undeniably a good sign.


	6. She Can Have The Ruby

**\- Chapter Five: She Can Have The Ruby -**

Fighting amongst themselves over who would be given what to wear when they entered the city - the two best options furnished by the Kahn being a veiled ensemble of jewels dressed in silk so fine it was sheer, or an ornate gold plate adorned with a blood ruby the size of a heart and the lushest of scarlet-bleeding-to-eggplant gauzes - neither Tanya nor Zyanya said a single word during dinner that night. Steaming iron pots stuffed to bursting with stolen spices and mangy rabbit flavored by a scant hint of leftover pheasant from the night before, Ko'atal had spent the better part of the afternoon preparing the meal, even going so far as to barter one of the spare sets of cracked clay plates for freshly baked bread made with olives and sesame seeds. Camp erected under pitted cliffs dotting the outskirts among the dried desert brush, the plain pavilion unmarked and braided as civilian to avoid rousing suspicion amongst the refugees they had met on the road from Ti'ian, it had not been an easy feat to convince the old matron to enter negotiations, however the timely arrival of her eldest daughter had turned the tides; Rain would later receive the first serving, as well as an extra two slices. As fate would have it, the self-proclaimed prince had returned quite ravenous after a taxing go of establishing contacts after an even longer day of seeking personal pursuits with the pretty little things that painted the drab scenery, far too much so to even register that there was such a strenuous tension peppering the air.

"How goes the hunt for Lunga?" Ko'atal, who had long ago learned the hard way to not get any more involved in feminine squabbles than was absolutely necessary, politely inquired of Rain as they broke bread and passed around a flask of ginger-and-clove ale, "The way the people speak, he is still locked away within the impregnable walls of Si'Sil-on. The men often bemoan that they cannot be him while the mothers fret over lovely daughters and promising granddaughters coming into womanhood." It was grace alone that kept the Osh-Tekk from pointing out the revered enemy was not the only shark in the waters that the locals ought to be weary of.

Three-pronged fork skittering crookedly across the top of gouged flatware as he picked his portion clean - thoughts less on the status of the mission at hand and more on the gems that would soon be lost - the Edenian simply shrugged in reply, "Even I'm not _that_ good - this kind of thing takes time. If they weren't so busy pouting over who gets to be second best," vain as ever, there was no question that he was referring to their looks and calling himself the most handsome in the land, "Tanya might consider backing me up, because trust you me, she could tell you how trying it is to ferret out which scum is the most willing to introduce you to the right person." Ignoring the double death glares piercing his amethyst armor at the implications being made, the dark-haired demigod pressed on heedlessly, "By rights the demon should have the necessary skill to quell this cat fight, but it would seem that she is otherwise occupied."

Untouched mammal foot shoved away with a sad little frown that ordinarily would have gladly devoured the morsel in a few short bites, lightly painted lips wiggling with a wince as an unprotected knee rammed into the stubby box of a table leg at the sudden ascent, the impling caught the other's eye for the most fleeting of moments, glance broken before the other two could catch on. Reunited in body the relationship had only been half a secret from the rest of the newly formed unit - arriving a whole half a day late to the prescribed rendezvous point, the entirety of the guard and the pair of Edenians had been greeted by the unknowing marriage of almost beastly moans of pleasure and the rapid-paced guttural slapping sounds that frequently accompanied the peak of intimacy. As for the rest of it though, the recently muted hellion had seen it fit to limit (if not outright prohibit) any action that might lead to the impression that there was anything more than sexual attachment and respect between the two. In fact now that the subject came up... still awaiting an answer to a certain question, Ko'atal had actually been wondering about the hellion of late...

"Aren't you going to go after her?" Self-described as being beyond the shackles of tendering to some woman and her baggage, Rain motioned towards the figure retreating to the sandy paths that were collectively called streets, neither concerned nor interested in a person that had nothing to offer him (though not for a lack of asking into the matter), "That all seemed rather dramatic."

Meal unceremoniously halted by the silent outburst, the ambassador's only heir ceased her merciless impaling of the other foot as the bored look on her face was promptly replaced by the incredulous scowl working its way onto her otherwise lovely countenance, "This is precisely why you'll never find a wife, Rain." Princess Kitana finding an admittedly impressive way to make her rival's blood boil before parting paths, Tanya had been on the outs with her plum peer since departing from the royal palace, or close enough to that time to make no matter, "Sometimes the demons feeding on the secret corners of a woman's heart aren't defeated by a few meaningless mistakes." The venom in her tone was such that there was not a single eye batted at the girl's somewhat regrettable choice of words.

Chewing a mouthful of toasted loaf before going for another bite it couldn't have been any more transparent that the demigod was unaffected by the private jab at his character, however the thinly-veiled insult made the warrior sun think; Ko'atal knew that even in the worst of times loving the succubus was no mistake, yet perhaps there had been something more gnawing at her that he didn't see, some unknown piece of the puzzle causing her to suffer alone... It would have been very much in line with the woman he knew to bottle up the worst of the news to handle it on her own.

Preparing to be the hero of the evening and rise from his own plate to give pursuit, of all life's unexpected twists the teal tumbler was forcibly slapped in the side of the head by the least likely of occurrences, and that was even including the existence of alternate time lines: Tanya volunteered to go instead. "I know what you're thinking Ko'atal, but trust me, you're the last person she needs to see right now." Utterly at a loss for why that would be the case, Tanya seemed so certain that it felt right to just leave it and believe in whatever bond had been built between the two women before the garment war began. "Leave this to me." Finished with her own dinner and just playing with the remains like a stubborn child trying to stay up past their bedtime, quite possibly more sympathetic than given credit for and almost definitely far more knowledge on the matter than either male was aware of, she placed a polished hand on his forearm and shook her head lightly. Pupil-less like his own, her milky dove-colored eyes promised him that she would keep an eye on the demoness and bring her back.

How unscathed the target was upon return remained to be seen, but what other choice did he have?

 **One Short Chase Later...**

Dangling like two droplets of color as they started to bleed down vertical canvas over the unguarded cliff edge the same exact way someone would ruminate at the side of a swimming pool, a lone figure sat amidst a scattering of squat rocks ideal for gatherings and gazed out at the open expanse sucker punched by the jutting of unsettled earth. Suicide the first thought to jump to the mind of any witness to cross the scene or any other similar setting, oddly enough the yet-to-be-paid huntress knew better as she joined the hellion at the abandoned overlook to watch the ruddy sun set over the purple mountains in all their unsung majesty, the sight so breathtaking that for a minute nothing else mattered. For one thing such a morbidly morose tantrum wasn't the demon's MO, and for another the thought never even occurred to Tanya. How could it in such a serene place?

Wind whistling a special tune as the various shades of gray melted into snow-capped violets and bluebells so mesmerizing an experience that there was no meaningless tiff between allies over dressings that would look equally and exchangeably splendid on either, no guilt or internal war to plague the crumbling semblance of a soul. Everything was pure and untouched and completely in alignment with the sacred perfection known only to the Elder Gods, each song in the sky a gift that never died, all the ill in the world a distant memory that was coming to feel more and more like a bad dream that took too long to end. So far as the girls knew, this moment had been especially manufactured just for them.

Sapped throughly of strength and all trace of negativity, Zyanya was the first to shatter the illusion of a magical world free of woe, mindful that there was the very real chance that neither could remove their eyes from the picturesque horizon that spanned millenniums during the entirety of the conversation as she breathed softly, "I'm glad it's you." Stuck on the soaring downward spiral of the most daring of sky-bound raptors - what looked like a dead lizard clasped in its beak - the impling motioned to the nest of distance-blurred hatchlings bickering for their mother's return, "They can't see her, but they still feel something inside that knows she'll be back for them. It's just innate, but how do you know something like that? Would they feel it if she died? What about if she just never came back?" Somehow the Edenian had the inclination that the Netherreamian was no longer speaking of the winged rodents. "How can you know that you're ready?"

"For?"

Brought the hazy memory of a conversation she had once had with her father when the demoness thought of Ko'atal's attempt to make an honest woman of her, Zyanya also reflected that monogamy was a taboo because the heart was far too frightened to trust such a level of commitment. "Marriage may be a profession that most females from other realms pursue," declared in the resolute passions of youth in a time when she had been emboldened by the potential prospect of a match, the adolescent hellion had had nothing but scorn for the institution, "or perchance some form of a hobby or somehow even something joyous that is highly coveted. But it is something I actively aim to avoid." Treatment of the sire harsh enough that it never slipped her mind to be cautious who she was addressing, the demoness recalled hastily amending, "Of course should my father or Lord wish for it I shall oblige to serve, but I do not await the day I am forced into that place of immovable servitude and disdain."

In those days her personal mantra had been 'my freedom is the one gift given me, and I do not wish to see it taken away by the whims of someone less than deserving'. Called persistent for that stance, marriage had since become a topic barely broached; in some ways the demon had even deluded herself into believing that it would be bad for her health to limit her food source in such a way, though technically there was no evidence to support the claim either way.

Relenting to a virtual stranger easier than opening to Ko'atal in some ways, the assassin-turned-ambassador admitted that the first thing to run across her mind had been that to legitimize their affair was to say that it meant nothing at present, tone breaking as she confessed, "He wants to marry me, but how can I possibly say yes when I can't even tell him what's in my heart? I..." starting to say something but giving up half-way in, the pearl shook her head at the mother bird returning to the nest, "I'm not worthy." For so many different reasons, every day spent with Ko'atal was both a gift and a lie that only grew worse the deeper in love she found herself.

Not saying a single word, the ambassador's daughter placed her hand over the other woman's and gave it the most gentle of squeezes.


	7. What's Next?

**\- Chapter Six: What's Next? -**

Heather coils unfurling sparingly in the Stygian expanse, the scintillating cobalt radiating from the stars merging with the distant peach glow of the humble cook fire against an otherwise stark portrait of a quiet winter wood, an ebony-locked youth expressed his doubts of the story being fed to the two males by the dark-haired vision and her pearly companion, "I don't see what any of that has to do with Master Hanzo..."

Joint kill already divided between the parties by mutual agreement of need and stored for the reluctantly partnered pair of hunters to go their separate ways, bellies as full as they were going to get for the night, the unseasoned deer meat was settling in the gullet better than the narrative was. Displaying every sign of having heard the tale at least once before - each time that the name Ko'atal was mentioned she muttered what sounded like an apology under her breath - eyes cast downwards throughout, even the teen traveling alongside the blatantly mistrusted demoness was acting uncomfortable. Although if the pale one was to be believed, it stood to reason why she'd be so squeamish at the intimate details. Swayed by the eternal fires that burned behind sparsely marked bronze eyes, if her guide and guardian was as infamous a betrayer as his master indicated it only followed that she would be following suit, but it would have been a real shame if that was the case: Hitomi was as strikingly pretty as the flower that bloomed on the floor of the mountain only after the season had shifted. Possibly even more so (ignoring the fact that girls were a virtual nonentity on the mountain).

Glaring at the woman opposite him as if weary that the fair creature was more than capable of delivering the sweetest of promises one moment and doing everything in her power to escape the next, Takeda surmised that Master Hanzo also had yet to see the relevance. "You always were skilled with your tongue, traitor."

Two sets of more innocent eyes demurred momentarily from the singeing stab, however the strange woman remained fixed in place like a wilting Rhododendron Campanulatum that withered unfed in the rocky slopes, determined to take every insult hurled her way without complaint. Whatever had happened between the pair of them - truly happened - it was blinding Master Hanzo to the most believable thing about this whole scene: the remorse. Four bundled individuals clustered so tightly around the moderate blaze that there was no space but fabric between kissing knees, apprentices crammed between, the boy gathered that it was quote unquote "the best for Takeda's sake" that the former wraith was able to clearly observe their unexpected guest and any foolish move she might make. While the young Shirai Ryu could not deny that he had no idea of what the outsider was capable of, her visage alone hinting that like the veteran shinobi she was no stranger to kombat, the swordsman's son had to concede that the warrior woman appeared to be a threat to the two of them in no shape or form.

Sighing with a sad look at the girl introduced as Hitomi - who couldn't quite bring herself to meet the woman's gaze and merely stared at... well honestly Takeda had no clue what she was staring at on the woman when almost every part of her was obscured by furs, but to hazard a guess he would have said the girl was looking at the demon's chest - the hellion instead gazed to the heavens. Judging from both everything they'd heard so far and the way Master Hanzo wanted to roll his eyes, that seemed to be something the succubus did a lot. "I thought you'd be a better audience and save your questions for the end." Bothered by the interruption but undeterred to say whatever she came here to say, the huntress continued with a tug on one of the silvery ropes spilling from her crown, "I made more than my far share of mistakes, I will accept the consequences of that as they come, but it's not right that continue to keep lying to those I love, no matter the intent. I ought to have learned that with my firstborn," voice threatening to tremble, she turned to Hitomi, "none of you will never know how sorry I am that I didn't."

Reaching to the demon's face with a hand gloved all in white, the younger of the two wiped away the faint glitter of the half-formed tear that dared to show itself in the argent haze of the fire, "He'll forgive you. It won't be easy, but I know. In the end he's half of my heart, and I understand why you did most of what you did."

World suddenly growing instantly darker as a being of fire and brimstone crossed his arms underneath an infuriated grimace - though the rage wasn't quite enough to draw out the infamous Scorpion - Master Hasashi labored underneath the assumption that they were referring to himself and roared, "I forgive nothing!" Spittle flying out so far as the blaze, Takahashi followed the same path of reasoning and found the reaction to be a legitimate course of action from the pieces he had assembled, though as for the bit about being half of Hitomi's heart, that just kind of fell by the wayside, an unimportant thread of thought too fleeting to be followed up on.

"..." Silence an answer of many faces, something told the orphaned Shirai Ryu that his sensei was going to take this the wrong way no matter what fell from the woman's cranberry-hued lips.

"Your memory is selective indeed to forget!" Leering with eyes colder than death at the lascivious-looking lady and utterly disregarding the particular way she beheld him in return, there was an intensity burning that Takeda had failed to recall seeing on his master's face on even the worst of days as the former wraith became increasingly incensed by the stroking fingers of the past. "When you vanished without a trace everyone thought that you had died. I thought that you..." refusing to choke-up on the swallowing clutches of sentiment and lose momentum, the fury redirected itself, "I alone resumed the search for your body long after the order had been retracted, and do you know how my effort was rewarded? I find a whore returned to the arms of a fool."

Accusations of forgetting anything inconvenient enough to raise Hitomi's hackles, on principle the woman being implicated in such a fashion caused the young bloom to flare up, actual flames licking the ends of her flowing chocolate locks as she prepared to lunge at the offender with a murderous cry, "Back off, you don't know-"

"Hitomi!" Hand lashing out with frightening speed that seriously made Takeda reassess the hellion's threat-level, the demoness yanked the girl back and into her arms the way a mother would hold her child, soft soothing words on her tongue until the smell of burnt hair was the only remainder of the outburst. "This is my fight, not yours." Despite reprimanding her comrade with a certain kind of stern tone that he himself missed, there was also a hint of pride in the girl as she explained, "Hitomi inherited not only her father's short temper but the flames of his wrath as well."

And there it was again. "..."

Embracing the other as if intending to hold her back for the remainder of the night, the demon resumed weaving her web with a mild shrug, "Now as I was saying before all this ugliness, there is a connection between everything you've heard so far and what I came here for. More than likely my journey will come to a close before the dawn, however one can't rule out that you'll just take it as the prattling of an ancient terror grasping at the frayed strings of the past to destroy whatever's left, or just maybe you can accept that this is the confession of a woman that can never hope to make amends. It's inescapable that there's no redemption for my soul, but there's still a chance I can at least try to do right for my children... they deserve better than what they were given. I royally messed up raising my kids - I was so frightened and ashamed I let the worst part of myself rule, and worse than that, I knowingly hurt everyone involved just to save my own skin. Hitomi has heard me out so graciously, and again when dealing with her brother, so she could have just came to you with this story herself, yet I had to be the one you heard this from." Tempted to call him by name, the demoness refrained and instead addressed the shinobi most respectfully in his native language (the translation loosely being), "You of all people have more than every right to call me every foul name you can think of and cast me off this mountain, but I beg of you that you'll hear me out to the end. Once I've told you everything, my life is at your mercy."

Concerned not only for what it could do to Hitomi to see the demoness lay down her life but also touched by the loss of his own mother, Takeda looked to his sensei, genuinely worried what the man so notoriously bent on revenge would do...


	8. Lust-Bound, part I

**\- Chapter Seven: Lust-Bound, part I -**

Si'Sil-on alive with a couple dozen hazy ecru glows puncturing the jagged row of watchtowers against an oystered backdrop lost in the murkiest of nights, bards of all skill performing for the drunken purveyors of pleasure as the dark and beautiful creatures themselves stole men and women alike blind, the city was secure behind great garnet-set gates. Once revered for its security as much as its opulence, the township considered itself to be so secure that only one guard was posted near the lesser-known entrance to witness two feminine shapes laughing amongst themselves like the best of friends upon their return to the slumbering community before the glitzing gem. Russet dust outside the makeshift citadel of runaways and beginners whipping into the makings of a frenzy busy enough to cloud the playful shoves, Tanya and Zyanya had heedlessly entered the shared space dreading the lectures and smirks that would be waiting.

Friendship renewed and deepened beyond what anyone could have imagined possible, in all candor the slaying silver-tongues were secretly hoping that their respective other halves might have already retired for the night, however more than likely they discover the Osh-Tekk making a show of clearing away the ruined meal by his lonesome while the Edenian pauper lounged about. Reality the dasher of all dreams, what the girls got instead was a single body waiting in the unlit depths of the pitch-black pavilion: six-armed silhouette juggling a knife that would make any cutthroat smile, there was absolutely no mistaking that Special Lieutenant Lunga had come out of his hidey-hole to grace them with his presence.

Had Rain actually been more successful than they had realized, or was this game over?

Practice in the adjacent arts of kombat and deception drilled into each of their heads from an early age, neither considered offering pause on any sort of platter as their eyes adjusted to the few torches too stubborn to dim in the possibly artificial climate shift and the string of lanterns that offered feeble penetration through the shabbier stitches on the calmest of nights. Aged yellow parchment paper printed with the logo of the resisting monarch, the similarities ended there and differences began with the odds and ends each wandering party placed on the thin yet shockingly sturdy cables, everything found from meats to dried vegetation to wares to decorations dangling in the sighing spaces between 'properties'. Fairer sex limited to the confines of the yurt and therefore the most minimal of mundane actives, the Edenians would go over social strategy while the Osh-Tekk and the succubus would maintain the living arrangements, the shape-shifting sorceress finding inventive new ways to hide the fact that women resided within the pavilion. Hint hint on the down low, that meant getting creative with finding new ways to do half the laundry.

Point being that the dangerous dames weren't so so easy to rattle with this kind of switch-up. Roving across bland walls sun-baked and stretched from a livable shade of olive to the ill offspring of a sour apple, every last detail of the dimple-topped tent was scanned critically for the slightest of upsets as they hunted for struggle or other indication of their companions current locations. Expectations and realities clashing frequently, when it came to living arrangements there was one individual that hampered the effort; slob might have been a tad too far when the accusation concerned an individual that took the absolute best care of his own self and personal possessions, but when it came to the collective community, Rain wasn't the most generous roommate. Not that Ko'atal was perfect either - though he played the role of maid more often than one might guess, he sometimes failed to see the boundaries of ownership and shared practically everything with his mate... _everything_. Back to the more pressing matters at hand, privately allowing that under the circumstances there was more room for error than their fathers would have been comfortable with, the objects within appeared to be exactly where they had been before and undisturbed.

"Ladies. You have been gone a long time..." Sheathing the blade in a holster strapped between the second and third row of limbs as he stood in a regal motion, Lunga couldn't help but to notice his new playthings searching for their more capable counterparts, "I quite assure you that you need not worry about your escorts - Joxxter, my manservant christened by the king himself, has seen to it personally that they are being treated as my honored guests." The dignified manner in which Lunga spoke made it hard to see if his words were a veiled threat or a genuine display of generosity as he offered such pretty assurances, "We are quite alone."

On her toes and undoubtedly the triumphant in terms of experience in these types of situations, the Edenian offered a slight inclination of the waist with her arm folded open against her abdomen, "Salutations, Lord Lunga. What of the other refugees?"

"Sent on to the various shelters," waving two of his left hands at the subject, he dismissed the locations of all living creatures outside of the immediate vicinity with an almost pleading tone, "please understand that when I say we are alone, we are truly alone out here in these wastes." Heaving a sigh that lessened the mystery, the three-ribbed military leader shook his neatly trimmed head just hard enough to stir an immaculately kept mustachio the color of tired hay, "My dears, I must confess that I grow more taxed with these affairs the older I get, and as even the babe at the breast knows, time is always ticking. Tick-tock." With the top two arms he motioned the workings of a modern sundial to distract from the seventh malformed extremity growing between the thin layers of stripped cloth tied haphazardly around his middle. "Tick-tock. As women I know that the concept of a man's war is far too complicated to grasp, but I must ask you, is it so hard to understand that as he reaches a certain age a man only desires one thing?"

Time for the succubus to shine and do her part as she had been trained, Zyanya seized Tanya suddenly by the waist and yanked her closer, whispering something in her ear as they edged closer to the target, some not-so-distant part of the brain begging the back-up muscle to be close to joining the fray, "Would it be presumptuous of us to say we already know what it is that you want?" Licking her lips as the space between continued to dwindle in size, the demoness reached for the tattered knot at her own midriff and shed the fabric in short order, "Prince Rain spoke highly of you on the journey here, but he failed to tell us the most important part..." Purring deep in the back of her throat, she melted away from her final pillar of support and took the last few steps on her hands and knees. Harsh and unsavory as it was to face, this was exactly the kind of thing the hellion had been bred for.

Following suit, a slightly less experienced Tanya unabashedly undid the amber clasp of her top and made quite the production of unraveling it from around her neck to compensate, "I'm quite cross with him now! But..." flashing a smile of insincere honey as she teased, the younger of the two females threw the gritty material away without a second thought, hands cupping the underside of her exposed breasts as her thumbs flicked the nubs of her nipples, "maybe you can help us both feel better about being misled? Surely a strapping stud like yourself can make it up to us."

Gasping out unexpectedly as the hellion made first contact - mouth skilled not only in weaving the spells of darkest sorcery but other crafts as well, playing the part of a whore took almost no effort for the blonde as she took in first the tip and coated it in saliva - Lunga recovered from the faux pas by punishing the Netherrealmian with more than she was prepared for. Shock of receiving the brutal thrust without any nature of support or warning rattling in the back of her skull, Zyanya's eyes became too unfocused to see whether or not the deadly diplomat of tomorrow was prepared for this level of game play - Lunga might have spoken like a gentleman, but the rough way he just barreled in said otherwise.

Tanya, so far as the other woman went, had confessed on the return that the purple descendant of royalty had been the only man she had lain with; the demon was jealous of that and admitted as much when she recounted that there had been too many to count littering the contents of her closet, and that was all at the behest of her own sire. What Zyanya neglected to mention was that of her own choosing there had been one other to hold her in the afterglow, just one other before Ko'atal, but... Long story short, he was a wandering outlaw and she was little better than a slave with a fancy title: the visiting brunette knew the way the world outside worked and only desired something temporary, and like the damned fool in love she was, the impling had given him exactly what he had wanted, and so much more...

Aware of what the Edenian was and the propensity for what she could become down the line, the soiled pearl still had come to genuinely care for the tawny silver-tongue and didn't want to see her destroyed in such a way. Especially not if she could help prevent it.

"Prince Rain promised my man Elizor a skilled little succubus and a fresh minx with the endurance to match an Edenian willing to play, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to speak so true - I am most glad I decided not to wait any longer to meet you two lovely jewels." Beckoning Tanya closer with more than a gesture, the victor of the bloodless coup did precisely as the demoness thought he would and wasted no time in fondling her perky brown breasts, milky lavender fingers tracing endless circles around her areola as his lower extremities divided their attention between females. Senses already heightened and fried for the day but clearly still able to feel the natural buzz of excitement building, it wasn't long before both girls were naked as the day they were born, each begging for more in a blurred language of deep, rumbling moans and endless yelps that could go on for days as Lunga himself felt the anticipation mounting. Arms still wrapped around shuddering thighs slick with a thin coating of juices, the general asked with the inclusion of a second finger to Tanya and a third to Zyanya, "Now who here is going to go first? The tight fawn grazing with the big deer," nibbling on a dark protrusion before snapping his jaws in a vicious-sounding bite, he turned to the pale flesh of the other and traced a line down her center as he stole a salty taste of himself, "I do believe I just answered my own question!"

"How-?" She was beyond lost at how a stranger could instantly know her secret, especially when such great care had been taken to obscure the truth.

Infamous across the land for his taste for expecting mothers, the hero of the people shoved the snowflake aside and carried Tanya over to the table in order to sprawl her sleek form across the wooden length, "Be happy little one," Lunga spoke directly to the quickening in Zyanya's womb as he stalked away with a different prize, "you just ensured your mother a long life in my private cells." Climbing on top of the Edenian and pinning her arms over her head to minimize resistance to his entry, the stately addict glanced over his shoulder to issue orders to the succubus as the politician's offspring writhed in excitement below, "Watch and enjoy yourself as I fill her with my seed, again and again and again until she's as swollen and tender as you are. I may be infertile," the part of the confession that would ordinarily illicit sympathy was lost as he licked the side of his partner's face to taste the sticky sweat that was matting her raven locks, "but that won't stop me from imitating the sensation as best I can."

Half on the verge of losing herself to the naughty throes of pleasure vibrating deep from within her thighs, body shuddering underneath the sick fucker as he began to pump his hips over the selected victim before the first internal thrust, Tanya wasn't so far gone yet that she couldn't silently implore the demon to come to her aid.

Only trouble was, it was a needless gesture - dutifully going to the chair their captor had been sitting in when they first arrived (the nice oak provided by the Kahn that Rain had claimed as his own), as if hearing the command from her overlord in the Netherrealm the creature of the pits situated herself to obey orders, and boy did she ever listen! Kneading her own breasts with the same pattern Ko'atal adopted and whimpering out at the touch of his ghost, glad to be able to properly use her vocal cords for the first time in what seemed ages, the hellion spread germinating petals and returned to the most familiar corners of herself as the other girl was pounded too vigorously to pity, gaze ultimately falling on the unbridled bounce of her breasts. Say what you would about the young pyromancer, but there was fun times to be had in her pillows... those delicious chocolate-dipped mountains... Thinking of coating the mounds in melted caramels and cocoa and frothing cream, it was suddenly next to impossible to cease the fantasy of lapping sweets from the other female's hypnotically heaving hooters. Clamping down on herself and stirring faster at the image of taking the girl for her own, Zyanya crumbled and cried out, "Gaahh, no, not again..." Mission in mind but slipping further and further into the gray as the bold brawler was turned over and spanked crimson between sloshing slaps that threatened to pierce the confines of the cervix, the hellion knew that she'd have to act soon or be lost to her own selfish nature, "Hmm, it sounds like the first time I was with him..."

"Him?" Not at all opposed to hearing a dirty story - especially not when a pretty prize was touching herself so openly - the general tore himself away from the chocolate dud in his mouth just long enough to inquire and elaborate, "Let me guess, the big one was your lover. Yes," the lilac lad grinned suggestively at the demon as the young woman in his arms called out for the Elder Gods, "you scream the type that needs a big cock to dominate you like your daddy used to... Or is it fill the hole he left behind?" Not waiting for an answer, he changed positions and opened the girl's legs wider as they faced Zyanya, "Tell me about it, regal us with all the nasty ways he made you a woman."

Made a woman...?

Paler than her own flesh but covered in the same scarlet runes, the hand of Zyanya's first flashed to the forefront of her mind and once more pressed her head down into the top of the chest he had caught her attempting to break into, the insatiable libido previously directed upon one of his personal assassins now turned upon the prying child. Reduced to undignified sobs and shattered wails as the humble dress of training priestess' was shoved over her waist and blood from an annihilated hymen trailed down her legs, the only thing that hurt worse than the pain raking her tiny frame was that a woman she had thought of as a friend had watched her suffering for a handful of seconds before fleeing the scene. Broken both in spirit and body, as that miserable morning corroded into a shameful and bloody explosion that ultimately led to expulsion from the strict holy order the demoness had been training for her entire existence, it was on that day that she swore to become one of Quan Chi's assassins for the sole purpose of extracting revenge upon the bitch that had so brutally betrayed her.

Although if Lunga was referring to the other sense of the phrase, that was quite a different story!

Formally brought before Shao Kahn's court by a young Saurian and an Osh-Tekk that had newly been promoted to lieutenant - escort fitting in that two rarities were presenting another - the specially painted warrior and scantily-clad albino witch bonded unexpectedly between the latticed sheets of the heavily covered caravan without laying a single eye on the other. First it had been as trivial as concurring that the fuss being made by both camps was entirely unnecessary and an utter waste of perfectly good soldiers, a healthy-sized chunk of the two hour sojourn spent discussing impressive triumphs on the battlefield (both personal and historical) and debating the current conflict. As if divined, the war talk was ushered to a screeching halt by the clean up of a small riot that ultimately led to the mistreatment of Outworld slaves that neither could help; upset by the ugly injustice of wives and children being subjected to sentences the broken insurgency were too weak to see through to the end, the connection was strengthened further. By the time that the protective detail and semi-precious cargo had disembarked to cheers and fanfare, the two had felt a magnetic urge sparking so violently that in hindsight it was miraculous that nothing untoward transpired that first day...

Bashful without meaning to be as recollections of the warrior sun cornering the hellion just after morning drills flooded to the surface, the impling discovered for the first time that her hesitance to share intimacy with Ko'atal went the opposite way as well, which was unfortunate for Tanya (though from the sounds of it she wasn't too heartbroken at the lack of a rescue), "...Yeah? I don't know, that's kind of intimate... And anyways I wouldn't even know where to begin." That was actually true: Zyanya had never been in the business of playing this sort of part, so it was unclear to her if she should start at the first time the Osh-Tekk claimed her or just get into the good stuff. Quantity absolutely not the same thing as quality, the succubus reflected ever so briefly that it was almost tragically ironic she was less than prepared to master the situation that was spiraling quicker and quicker out of her control... Studying the all-too-familiar glazed expression creeping over Tanya's fair countenance and gleaning that the girl would soon be at her limit, the hellion defiantly rose with just a twinge and sauntered over as something dark was unleashed, "Better yet, I could just show you."


	9. Lust-Bound, part II

**\- Chapter Eight: Lust-Bound, part II -**

Apologizing with all her black little heart to Tanya and Ko'atal alike while praying that at least one of them might get the message, the impling eased Special General Lunga off of the young Edenain just as he was getting close to blowing the first charge (her own release still being teased), expertly steering him back over the loose dirt floor to the lumpy straw mattress in the farthest corner. Not entirely sure how far this ordeal could be taken without being called cheating, it helped ease the sick feeling eating her innards to take the foul deeds the twisted evil bubbling inside was concocting to the one bed she had yet to wake up in. In her defense and to Ko'atal's credit, it had become more challenging than anticipated to fall asleep without feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her, his innate scent merging in harmony with the deepest cords and constructing a whole other layer of safety, the motion a cradle as much as it was a part of herself now. Perhaps, the poorly timed thoughts pouring on as the demoness straddled the fine line of simply following orders and being unfaithful between her legs, just maybe there was enough there to steam past the dark clouds of doubt and trepidation and give her beloved the answer he wanted...

If she was a good person she should have given him the answer he needed to hear to move on... But she wasn't a good person, even in the moments she tried to be...

Yet in truth the Osh-Tekk sun god had been far too patient with the demoness while he waited for a reply that seemed on the surface unlikely to ever come, each day in their courtship demonstrating that in his heart he was always better to her than she deserved, so it was unsurprising that he let days slip past with nothing more between them than the innocent act of her curling up in his arms after the other had drifted off. Startled nearly each and every time that first week when he would open his turquoise orbs to see the golden stare of the succubus in his face, the outcome was always the same: he'd open the thin coverlets and she'd snuggle into his arms with no trace of any explanation or really any words spoken at all. Ko'atal was better than Zyanya in every conceivable way and always would be, but if she was truly all he wanted in return, it wouldn't kill her to try...

"Is this what you want?" Lowering herself to all fours, Zyanya wiggled her backside before raising it high into the air, motion of breath gutted as he aggressively mounted, "To make bad girls suffer and-" slamming in without mercy, the demoness couldn't stop herself from crying out as her hand slid over the edge of the mattress and rammed into the unrefined dirt below, "-dominate?" Gritting her teeth as the raw searing sensation cooled to a rhythmic stabbing, the remaining woman realized in the back of her mind that she was feeling less and less like her usual self, "Because I'm a bad girl. A _very_ bad girl." Reaching around to urge Lunga's libido to go faster and his hips to penetrate deeper, her nails dug too far into the flesh and came away with ruby droplets.

Grunting in the back of his throat and acquiescing to his partner's demands, the six-armed military genius put all seven of his limbs to excellent use with one small condition of his own, "Show me what you got."

Arching a pale brow and grinning at the challenge, whatever shreds of decency the woman had was eclipsed by the nebulous cloud of something wicked that came to devour all, "If that's what you desire. But..." discarding the dead weight of conscience, the embodiment of sexual energy hesitated just long enough before seizing the reigns and throwing the special general off her sweat-soaked form, tossing him flat on his back. Fluid as a classical ballad, Lunga was not only staring at the ceiling but up at the point of a stiletto heel positioned just above his eye; had Reiko been there it would have been more than fitting a punishment, but alas, the Outworlder was elsewhere. Dropping her leg with vicious force next to his ear, a quick glance around the rest of the room told the succubus that there was a better way. "I'm not sure you're up to par." Pointing to the one chair that just had to feel the need to be center stage, the demon bit into her lower lip with enough force to break the thin layer of skin, "Prove me wrong."

Opening her coppery-tasting mouth wide ecstasy as the lavender lover yanked her down on his lap with a light smack on the rear, his lips smacking for mother's milk that was still too early in the production stages to come, the hellion's cries grew louder as he clawed into her back - thanks to events that transpired earlier that day, it wasn't long before his hand came away slick with blood. Feeling the muscle tense protectively beneath the searing pain of the criss-crossed scratches on the shoulder blade reopen, the repeat offenders taking their toll with a pain that was nigh too much for any ordinary human to bear (key word being mortal), it was quickly apparent that the main culprit was one from Reiko and the fetish he had for drawing gore. Cursing knives and their crafters for all eternity to the deepest, darkest cesspools of the Netherrealm, the succubus grunted with grim satisfaction as Lunga's engorged dagger found its mark.

"Not very nice, is it?" Victory firmly in hand now that her ally had turned the table, Zyanya cooed and changed the pace to one that better matched her own demonic drive as the weapon was twisted in the General's back and he began to bleed out, the monster inside not caring a tit about whether the future diplomat judged her for not finishing with the target until she was completely satisfied. Enough of the rational self had remained to save the Edenian before she became just another mindless sex slave in a set, so that should have been more than enough to appease the other with her hypocritical judgments.

Scarlet flow spewing from plush lips and the innermost corners of the up-turned snout as he cursed the murderess, the blood that sprayed her front only served to send the warped inner evil into a frenzy of savage bliss, "Ekk, Bitch! Arrugh," his groans slipped into a frequency beyond sound as his situation became rapidly more dire, "y-you'll pay... Urghhh."

"Oh? You don't seem to know nearly as much about my kind as I thought you would," disappointment eking into her words as she reached down her thigh to wipe away issue spilling out over the seat and trailing down her thighs, the ravenous creature that had been held back for almost a century sprung free from the final lock, its first act to smear the coating of semen inside Lunga's mouth with the same two fingers that had previously been inside herself, "that's a shame. But let me remind you of a little something before the real lesson begins..." trailing off to pump back up the prowess that the purple plaything had previously bragged of, the devil smirked in the dancing darkness as her partner hardened under the slightest of pawing, "my kind hails from hell." With one look into her chilling soulless depths, Lunga knew instantly that she was prepared to ride him all the way home.

For the reminder left to him and quite possibly after, he would be haunted by the look in those eyes, the only thing able to fall from his lips a feeble plea, "No..."

"Yes!" A harsh mistress and every inch the woman shaped by her father, she laughed in his face at the thought of all the fun the denizens of her home realm would have with the Special General, however they wouldn't get him until she had taken her fill. "You might not have known this, but the succubus is actually a very cruel creature - we can stop ourselves from devouring our mates, but when engaged by someone we could care less about it's a one-way ticket to the Netherrealm." Shaking her head the unbound hellion play-pouted before nuzzling her prey's neck, tongue beginning to moisten the outside of his jugular with a combination of sloppy kisses and urgent nips, "Once I'm done fucking you," deeper than usual, the demoness laughed sharply as she continued to bounce and gyrate in place, "I'm going to drain the life out of your husk." Absolutely growling - not entirely in a way that could be considered sexy or appealing - the imp sank her teeth into the pulsating mauve warmth of the dead man's common carotid artery and ripped it away without a shred of remorse, "And then to nourish the life growing inside me, the life you were dumb enough to breath a word of, I'm going to eat your remains." Zyanya had already lost one child, so she wasn't about to abide threats to another.

Gruffly exclaimed beneath the muffle of a tan face mask and even thicker than usual with the hint of disgusted horror, it wasn't Tanya that stood over Lunga's slumping shoulder and bore witness to the massacre-turned-necrophiliac-exhibition with wide-eyed fascination, "Suddenly I'm glad I didn't stick around. Yeesh." Not immediately threatened by the elusive figure from the past, a sideways glance told the feeding monstrosity that the tuckered yellow-favoring kombatant was still down for the count on the dining table, no one else in the pavilion but the new addition, "If you're looking for your reinforcements, the rest of my team is on that."

Half-forgetting that her bare form was drenched in scarlet, delicious as it was for the mother-to-be and nutritious for the contents of the womb, for just a moment the succubus was that timid child shown her first act of kindness when she spoke, "I told you you'd get in the habit of saving me someday." There was so much that she wanted to say to the traveler after all of that time, but the words and questions were suddenly stuck in the back of her throat and buried beneath a flash of a tiny little bundle wrapped in white, the babe slumbering through the untold dangers of stealing away in the dead of night. Reliving the worst day of her life at the height of her high, mind racing forward to a happy vision of Ko'atal basking in the sun by her side, laughter filling the summer air like the sweetest of music to counteract the welling despair that now devoured the darkness and locked it back tight, Zyanya couldn't feel anything but the cold reminder of loss. "I take it business must be slow, if you came."

Observing the mask of cooler heads attaching itself over a fragile heart still broken, a flood of his own memories playing behind the shadowed tilt of his hat, the bounty hunter shrugged in the direction of the Edenian, "You should thank the Princess for having the foresight to hire us." Story unfolding shy of ninety years ago, there hadn't been enough history between the former lovers to care what she did now and too much written between to bother to look away as she climbed off the deceased, "It's probably for the best that I warn you now - you've met my partner before." It probably would have been kinder to offer more of an explanation than that, but neither of them owed the succubus a damned thing.

Bodily fluids painting nearly every inch of her body, the demoness followed her sense of shame into using the window of moderate privacy to clean herself up some before Ko'atal saw her in such a state, and to ask a few questions, "Where did they take the rest of our unit? What about the civilians?" There were far more important things that she burned to ask, such as why there hadn't been a single reply to any of the letters she had sent (and continued to send when she could), or better yet where she could find the child in the event she ever worked up enough courage, but the hellion knew she had no right.

Researching the circumstances prior to executing the target, Erron didn't disappoint her expectations and had clearly gone above and beyond in collecting his intel, "Special General Lunga had Joxxter escort the Edenian to one of his clubs, and the Osh-Tekk was fortunate enough to be swept into customs with the civvies for registration." Pausing a moment, the bounty hunter didn't miss the way the impling lit at the news of the sun-based kombatant, but he chose ultimately to not comment on the fact that they seemed to share the same bleeding heart syndrome. "Don't forget to help this one." Drawing his six-shooter simply to keep his hands in practice, he pointed the pistol at Tanya as the demoness hobbled her way to the red clay wash basin and began to dab away the leavings of the dark creature with a porous sponge.

Grateful for the excuse to not focus on the strained air between the two conscious beings in the pavilion, she did what she could to make her friend presentable before the guys returned, back acting as a screen between the cowboy and a free show while she worked to dress them both, "Thanks for that. And Erron..." chewing the inside of her mouth while combating the desire to reopen old wounds, the demoness hastily spewed out the words before the nerve fled, "thank you for everything else too."

Holstering his guns with a shrug, their last encounter hadn't been so long ago that she forgot that that was just his way of accepting her gratitude. "If you're really thankful, you can add it to the Kahn's tab."

About to shake on it in earnest, Zyanya froze dead in her tracks as a familiar face entered the canvas living space. Dazzling blue eyes that could rival the beauty of any ocean and tank the mystery of any sea rolled upwards at the advances of Rain as the trio joined the party at long last, the familiar stranger that entered the world caused everything in the yurt to spin on its axis, a name springing immediately to being. "Emren?" Right hand extending out to the young woman that ruled the realms and wore the same look of the infant the hellion had last seen being carried off by her father, the demoness scrambled to the busty dirty-blonde that gave everything around her a new life, stopping herself just before making skin contact, "Emren, is that really you?" As the young woman nodded in confusion with a frightened look over at the marksman, Zyanya's smile fractured and became a glare of wrath to match the Elder Gods in all their might as she too stared down the westerner, "I left her with you because I was unfit to be a mother, and you let our daughter become a bounty hunter?! Damn you!"

Understanding dawning on the improved reflection of her mother's face, the eighty-something year old pulled away from the demon and crossed her arms under dual gun holsters, "Oh, so now I'm yours. That's convenient." Reaching with trembling hands for the grown woman once more - decades of attempts at preparing for this moment amounting to naught but a laughable waste - Zyanya's final hopes withered on the vine as the girl's father took the steps that seemed so impossible, his arms offering comfort and protection to the most valuable of gifts while his eyes threatened instant death to her foes. "Wonderful job," the girl scoffed, "being there for me every step of the way."

Circumstances also unexpected for Ko'atal, the Osh-Tekk could in no way be blamed for fixing the succubus with a stare of stone in his eyes and Elder Gods only know what in his heart, and yet still he remained loyal to the idea of loving her until the end of his days, "This is why you never could answer me in good conscience - you have a daughter." Loaning strength to his paramour, the warrior sun stood behind the woman he chose above the others and held her tight, one hand on her shoulder while the other laid across a waist that he had yet to learn carried his legacy, the certainty in his face shutting down Rain before the Edenian even got the chance to inquire why he would adore such a mess of a woman.

Love as self-explanatory a phenomena as there ever was, the reason was simple to the Osh-Tekk even if none other could grasp it - guarded as the most precious of treasure, he alone recognized that her heart was both a flickering thing of care to match the compassion he held for the well-being of others and alive with more feeling than she could ever express in words. A simple brush of the knee or the faintest hint of a smile, no matter how insignificant the gesture may have seemed to an objective third-party there was always something deeper to it that she just couldn't quite make herself say - he had yet to decipher the meanings to everything, but the lieutenant could always tell. She would sacrifice herself for the greater good of the people, as demonstrated when she agreed to stop Lunga at all costs, fully aware that what she was being commanded to do went against the interests of their relationship. Having discovered that she was the mother of a fully-grown woman, he could only imagine what all the impling had had to endure on that path.

Glued directly on Emren alone even as the hybrid tensed and hissed at the inferno of mixed-up emotions that came with coming face-to-face with a mother she had absolutely no history with, Zyanya murmured while gently placed her hand over Ko'atal's, taking the assembly at large by surprise, "...And a son." As if sensing his parents and the love they felt for each other right in that moment, the unborn seedling experienced his first heartbeat for those with the ears to hear.

Unnaturally quiet at the joyous news, Rain suddenly understood the real reason why Shao Kahn had elected to send Tanya on this mission over Kitana; putting two and two together, the Edenian figured out that Reptile must have overheard the prince dictating a response to one of General Reiko's subordinates and misunderstood who the instructions for the Cloud Brew was intended. "Three guesses who here sent my glorious majesty that letter." Mumbled under his breath, there was only one person who caught what he said...

 **To Be Continued...**


End file.
